


Requiem

by r0ryy



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Barebacking, Collars, Come Eating, Demisexuality, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Leashes, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective Siblings, Reconciliation, Riding, Underwear Kink, Voyeurism, also just a little, and again just a little, ffuckin idk what else to tag, just a little, just take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8951212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0ryy/pseuds/r0ryy
Summary: "It is not your company I require. Only that you continue to draw breath."





	

**Author's Note:**

> FUCK ME I promised myself I'd go back to my overwatch fic this week but I read the supports for these two and I lost all self control. Again. As always, I nut for every kudo/comment/bookmark/etc because this fandom is like 9 people and a paper bag. (All of whom I cherish deeply <3 u guys!) I think this is also the longest one-shot I've ever written so yeet hats off to that boys! ^^

They had been sleeping together.

Some would call it ill advised, falling into bed with one’s superior, not to mention the crown prince of Nohr. Selena called it stupid.

“Wait, you’re still fucking him?!”

“You sound surprised,” Laslow replied, dabbing a healthy amount of polish onto his cleaning rag.

“Well duh! I am! I thought it was like a one-time thing. Or maybe y’know, two or three until he got over the whole “my precious baby sister has betrayed me” thing,” she quoted, with a sweeping flourish that almost sent her sword smashing into Laslow’s face. “But now we’re all back together. Hasn’t he gotten over it?”

“Well I assume so,” he says, passing Selena the bottle once she’s returned to her perch atop one of the many wooden crates in the armory. “They seem to have patched up their relationship just fine, from my observations.”

“But he’s still sleeping with you.”

“Last I checked.” Laslow examines the surface of his blade, picking out the duller areas that need the most polishing.

“And you’re just…letting him?”

“Why do you assume that _I’m_ letting _him_?” he chuckles. “Perhaps _he’s_ the one who so graciously allows me access to that divine body of his.”

“You know what I mean, idiot! And also, gross. I don’t need to hear the gory details.”

 “Oh, but you’re so quick to share all of the little goings on between you and Owain, my dear.”

“Well, yeah but I don’t tell you the _gross_ stuff! And you like gossip.”

“I can’t say you’re wrong.”

Selena groans and snatches the polishing rag from his hands.

“Excuse me, I was using that!” he says, indignant.

“Stop changing the subject!”

“The subject has evolved, Severa, that’s usually how conversations go-”

“ _You know what I mean!_ ” Laslow stops, looking up to see the worry that scrunches up her eyebrows. She sighs, shoulders slumping, as she hands him back the polishing rag. “You know what I mean. I just don’t want you getting hurt-”

“I’m a big boy, Severa, I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, I know that dumbass but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you!” She sighs again, retrieving her own polishing rag and sword. “Look Inigo, you’re my best friend. And I know how you get attached once you start sleeping with someone-”

“Can we just drop this subject? Please?”

She pauses, brown eyes boring into him hard. “You’re already attached, aren’t you?”

“He is both my friend and my liege. I am just as attached to Lord Xander as you are to your Lady Camilla.”

Selena scoffs. “Yeah, whatever.” She goes back to polishing her sword in quick, hard strokes. After a while, she mutters, “He must be damn good in bed.”

Laslow grins, examining his reflection in the gleaming surface of his blade.

“Oh darling you have _no_ idea.”

 

* * *

 

“Hello, Prince Xander! How is milord doing today?”

“Not well, I’m afraid.”

Laslow gives himself credit that his grin doesn’t falter, even at his lord’s icy tone. He slips into Prince Xander’s dimly lit chambers, nudging the door shut behind him with his heel. Just in case.

“I suspected as much, but I’m still sorry to hear it,” Laslow replies, crossing the wide space to where the prince is sitting behind his writing desk, books and scrolls and papers splayed across its mahogany surface. “What troubles you milord?”

Prince Xander takes his time finishing whatever undoubtedly important letter he had been writing before slowly steepling his long fingers and addressing his retainer.

“I’ve had complaints of a royal retainer hitting on the women in town…some of whom were even in the presence of their spouses at the time.”

“Oh? Do you know the identity of this gorgeous fiend, milord?” Laslow replies, perching himself on the edge of his lord’s desk.

Prince Xander’s eyebrows twitch. “It was you, Laslow.”

“Ah, indeed,” he says, clapping lightly and crossing his legs at the ankle. “Once again, your powers of deduction astound me, milord.”

Prince Xander is silent for some time, staring up at his retainer from beneath his furrowed brows. Laslow, for his part, retains his same beaming smile, refusing to be phased by his lord’s simmering ire.

When the silence stretches out for too long, he winks flirtatiously and murmurs, “See something you like, milord?”

The prince sighs, a long, exasperated sound, and stands, making to return the various books littered across his desk to their proper shelves. His back is to Laslow when he next speaks.

“It has also come to my attention that you had tea with my sister yesterday.”

“Ahh yes, there is the loveliest little shop in the town nearby! I thought that Kamui would enjoy the time to relax.”

“The time to relax.” Prince Xander repeats, slowly. His eyes are hard when he turns to face his retainer. “And those were really your intentions?”

“Of course, milord! You don’t really think me the type of man to pursue someone who’s already spoken for?”

“Well, if the reports I’ve received are anything by which to judge then yes, Laslow, that is _exactly_ the type of man that you have led me to believe you are.”

“Why is that a hint of _jealousy_ that I detect in milord’s voice?”

“ _Laslow_ …”

“Oh relax, please, I’m only joking! Besides,” he adds, with a small laugh. “I’ve no wish to part from my flesh.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t dream of coming between Kamui and her beloved prince.”

“That certainly has not stopped your pursuits in the past.”

“Well my pursuits in the past didn’t happen to be involved with someone who could cleave my flesh from my bones if he wished.”

Prince Xander chuckles, despite himself, and Laslow grins at the small victory.

“Do you really believe that Prince Ryoma would do such a thing?”

“Oh, I think he would let Kamui get a few good whacks in first. But after that…” Laslow shudders in mock horror. “I quiver to imagine what would occur if Prince Ryoma were to get his hands on me.”

Prince Xander hums in acknowledgment, replacing the last of his books on the shelves.

“Of course,” Laslow murmurs, lowering his voice. “I quiver to imagine what would occur if a certain _other_ crown prince were to get his hands on me.”

“Do you now?” Prince Xander replies, feigning disinterest, but Laslow can see him glancing back at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I do,” he replies, leaning back a bit on the desk and licking his lips, hungrily. “I _really_ do.”

Prince Xander is across the room in an instant and the suddenness of his movement almost startles Laslow. He grips his retainer by the chin, not unkindly, and forces his head up to meet his burning gaze.

“I do not enjoy sharing, Laslow.” There is a hard edge to his voice that to anyone else would have sounded like a threat. But to Laslow, it sounds like a _promise_ and it has his stomach suddenly flaring hot with anticipation.

“My sincerest apologies, milord,” he breathes, eyes half-lidded and alluring. “I suppose you’ll have to punish me for my behavior then.”

“Perhaps,” Prince Xander murmurs, relaxing his gentle grip just enough to stroke Laslow’s cheek with his thumb.

Laslow smiles, slow and lazy, already looking forward to where he knows this night will be heading.

“I am so terribly sorry to have offended milord with my transgressions, but,” Laslow leans in closer, their lips just shy of brushing.

“Perhaps I can make it up to you.”

 

* * *

 

If he thought Prince Xander had actually been concerned about his intentions with Kamui, Laslow would have mentioned that she had, in fact, been the one to invite _him_ to tea.

He had no protests, of course. Kamui was good company, honest and friendly and just crass enough to be exceptionally entertaining. They had spent the first hour or so of their outing chatting amicably about anything except the war, and she did have some awfully funny stories about Prince Xander when he was younger. Laslow was thoroughly enjoying himself, getting to know their temporary leader and spending time in the company of a strangely delightful person.

They had just seated themselves down in the quaint little teashop that she had recommended with two steaming cups when the topic of their conversation changed.

“So,” Kamui says, tossing three cubes of sugar into her drink. “as lovely as it’s been beating around the bush all day, let’s get down to the real reason why I brought you here.”

“Oh?” Laslow replies, a bit startled. “And what would that be?”

Kamui stirs her tea idly and adds in a bit of milk.

“I heard that you’re fucking my brother.”

Laslow, to his credit, does not choke. _Almost_ , but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a quick sip to compose himself before replying.

“I didn’t think you were the sort to pay attention to idle gossip, Lady Kamui.”

“Please, just Kamui, and let me amend my statement.” She takes a long drink from her cup. “I _know_ that you’re fucking my brother.”

“Oh. A-and how exactly would you…”

She chuckles. “Oh, please Laslow, I have eyes everywhere.”

“Really now?”

“You know that ninja, Saizo? Red hair, one eye, wears a mask, really grumpy.”

Laslow takes another sip. “I have seen him around, yes.”

“I had him spy on you guys.”

“Uhh, define-”

“I made him watch you two have sex and then report back to me with all the filthy details. Somehow I just knew you’d have a panty sniffing fetish.”

This time he does choke.

Kamui snorts into her cup while Laslow takes the time to compose himself. It takes him awhile to come up with a proper response, but he finally settles on, “Now, how did you manage to convince someone like Saizo to do _that_?”

“Let’s just say he owes me some pretty _big_ favors.” Her grin is sharp, proud, and decidedly nasty. Laslow is taken aback for a second at just how _dangerous_ she suddenly looks. “Now, whether or not you choose to believe me is up to you, but let’s proceed as though you _are_ having sex with my brother and I _do_ know quite a few dirty details about the situation.”

Laslow takes another sip then sets his cup down, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

“Alright, lets.”

Kamui hums, idly swirling her tea. “What exactly are your intentions with Xander?”

“My intentions?”

“You’re not stupid, you know what I mean.”

After a few moments of searching, Laslow settles on telling the truth.

“Well, for the sake of full disclosure, we started having sex a few months ago, shortly after your departure from Nohr. The whole ahh, “betrayal” thing was weighing pretty heavily on him and…well, things just sort of…happened.”

“Happened.”

“Yes. I think he needed a distraction. Something to take his mind off of everything and I was more than willing to be that for him.”

Kamui makes a noise like she understands, examining the porcelain edges of her teacup.

“Who initiated?”

“He did,” Laslow replies. “I _suggested_ , but ultimately the decision fell to him.”

Kamui hums in acknowledgment, looking back up at him. “Alright, go on.”

Laslow sighs. “Honestly, there isn’t much more to go on about. It happened, and then it happened again, and then again, and then we joined up with the rest of your army and it just,” he shrugs, “kept happening.”

“Ahh.”

“Look, if you’re worried about my…romantic intentions toward your brother, I assure you I have nothing of the sort planned.”

“Oh?” Kamui sounds a slightly less noncommittal and Laslow considers it a small victory.

“Yes,” he explains. “After the war I intend to return to my homeland which, as you know, is quite far away.”

“Yeah you mentioned that.”

Laslow nods. “I know that milord’s station would not allow him to follow me, and so I have resolved to keep our relationship purely physical. Or professional. Whichever the situation calls for.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And that’s the whole truth of it.”

“And you’re dead set on leaving after the war.”

Laslow paused, taking a long sip of his tea, eyes crinkling inquisitively. “Why do you ask?”

Kamui sighs and he can see the moment that her mask drops.

“I know you mean a lot to my brother. You’re a close friend and confidant and now lover and I just need to make sure that he’s going to be alright, regardless of what happens between you two.” Laslow’s face softens.

“You certainly care about him a lot, don’t you?”

“I do,” she replies, a sudden honesty in her eyes. “He’s my big brother. I’d do anything for him.”

Laslow smiles.

“I can respect that. There was a girl knew in my homeland who felt that same way about her own brother.” His face softens with the memory. “I always admired her greatly.”

Kamui tosses back the rest of her tea and smiles, friendly and open this time.

“I’d like to meet her someday.”

Laslow feels his chest twist suddenly and he knows the sharp, unexpected pain makes itself known in his face. Kamui, blessedly, pretends not to notice.   

“You’ll like her,” he murmurs softly, draining the last of his tea from the cup.

“Well, that was lovely, but I believe we both have other duties to attend to,” she quips, hopping up out of her chair.

“Indeed we do,” Laslow replies, finishing off his tea and standing up. “Thank you for the afternoon Kamui, it was delightful.”

“No problem, buddy,” she shrugs. “Oh, and Laslow, one more thing.” He is jerked suddenly off balance by a tight fist in his collar. Laslow stumbles for a half second before he finds himself inches away from Kamui’s face.

She grins.

“If you ever break my brother’s heart, I will personally splatter your miserable ass so far across Nohr that not even Odin and all of his weird necromancy shit will be able to piece you back together. Are we clear?”

He gulps.

“Crystal.”

 

* * *

 

Laslow hadn’t been lying when he’d described Prince Xander’s body as divine.

The prince was _surreally_ attractive, all golden hair and long limbs and fair, Nohrian skin that looked positively delicious under the heavy flush brought on by Laslow’s ministrations. He looks back up that tight, hard body from where he is crouched at Xander’s feet just to meet the dark eyes he knows are boring into him.

The fabric of the prince’s underwear is translucent, slicked by his precum, the shape of his arousal barely hidden as the white fabric clings to it. Laslow keeps their eyes locked together and goes back to mouthing eagerly at his lord’s cock, lips and tongue wandering up the underside, lavishing the throbbing flesh with long licks and little kisses.

“Something tells me you’re enjoying this, milord,” Laslow murmurs, sucking hard at a spot just beneath the head. Xander doesn’t respond, just shudders and cards his long fingers through his retainer’s hair. Laslow hums and leans into the touch, mouthing wet and sloppy at the prince’s cock, hands kneading those strong thighs, gripping his ass.

Xander groans, twitching as his cock squirts an obscene amount of precum, drenching his underwear. Laslow licks at it hungrily, moaning into the soaked fabric until the prince yanks him back by his hair, a pretty flush on his high cheekbones, eyes half-lidded with desire.

“Collar. Bed. Now.” He chokes and Laslow nearly scrambles over himself to comply.

He shucks off his clothes in record time and fishes the smooth leather collar out from the bottom drawer of Xander’s night stand. Laslow straps it on, grinning down at the various toys they stored in that very same drawer.

“Cane or leash?” he asks, turning to cast a sultry gaze at his lord as he fished out their well-used bottle of oil from his desk.

“Cane,” Xander replies instantly. His voice sent chills down Laslow’s spine; that was the tone he usually reserved for when he was already making plans of what to do with him.

“Good choice,” he shoots back, pulling out the short, stiff cane and clipping it onto the collar’s ring. It was a dark wooden pole, only a few feet long, but it allowed his lord to control his movements better than with a traditional leash. Laslow loved it.

He lounges back on Xander’s plush bed, hands crossed behind his head, watching the subtle sway of his lord’s body as he makes his way over to the bed. Laslow reaches up to toy a bit with the supple leather as he unabashedly drinks in the prince’s body.

“How do you want me?” he murmurs, holding out the cane for him to take.

“On your back is fine,” Xander replies, wrapping his fingers around the dark wood. He pushes Laslow’s head back onto the pillows and straddles him, underwear already discarded, his cock on full, glorious display as he lounges against his retainer’s bent knees. The prince considers him for a moment before passing Laslow the bottle of oil and leans back, shifting his hips forward and presenting his twitching hole as well. He smiles, pushing the collar back against Laslow’s throat just enough to hear his retainer’s breath stutter and hitch.

“Get to work.”

 

Laslow knew that his lord was a very composed person, but with three fingers pressed up inside him, scissoring and stretching the soft flesh, curling mercilessly to rub up against his prostate, sliding out to play with his slick, puffy rim, his composure has all but shattered.

“Laslow, enough,” he bites out, using the cane to force his head back down on the bed and shying away from the swift dance of his retainer’s fingers. Xander was panting, flushed all the way down his chest and Laslow groans at the sight.

“Gods but you are gorgeous, my darling,” he breathes, reaching up to run his slick fingers over the prince’s drooling cock. “So pretty.” Laslow closes his hand around the stiff length, squeezing just to feel it throb, hot and insistent between his fingers.

Xander groans, wriggling in Laslow’s grip until his soft, slick hole brushes against his retainer’s straining cock. Laslow gasps at the contact, hips jerking up involuntarily. Fuck, he’s so hard it’s almost painful.

“Now you get eager,” the prince teases, grinding back against the swollen flesh.

“Are you-ngh! Are you ready, milord?” Xander _tsk_ s softly and reaches back to give Laslow’s ass a sharp slap.

“What have I told you about using titles in bed?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, hands settling on the prince’s hips, rubbing soothing circles into the hard flesh. “But I thought you were in to that sort of thing?”

“Not tonight,” Xander breathes. He lifts up and uses one hand to guide Laslow’s cock to his entrance. He sinks down torturously slowly, taking it inch by maddening inch until he’s seated flush against Laslow’s lap, long legs coiled underneath him.

“Oh, gods,” Laslow moans, fingers twitching where they are curled around Xander’s hips. He can feel the prince’s muscles contracting rhythmically around him, _squeezing_ him, pulling a half-choked whine from his throat.

“You feel… _divine_ darling,” he pants. Xander’s ass is like hot silk wrapped around his cock, slick and impossibly soft as he grinds his hips down against Laslow just to watch him squirm. The prince grins and pulls his retainer up by the collar until their faces are so close that he can feel Xander’s breath ghost across his face.

“Do I?” he murmurs, rising up and letting Laslow’s cock slide out of him until only the leaking head is still inside. “Then beg for me.”

Laslow thinks he might come right then and there, but he stubbornly shoves the pulsating arousal back down. He won’t be broken _that_ easily.

“Oh darling,” he murmurs, leaning up to brush his lips against the prince’s. “You’re going to have to work a bit harder than that if you _really_ want to hear me beg.” Laslow moves to kiss him, but Xander pushes him back down with a grin.

“I think I can accept that challenge.”

 

Xander drives him to the brink of orgasm three times before Laslow cracks.

“Fuck, you win, you win, darling _please_ …” he whines, hips shaking, cock throbbing as the prince lifts himself off, denying him, yet again.

“Hmm, you lasted longer than I thought you would,” he comments, almost casually, grip easing on the cane and allowing Laslow the room to gasp some much-needed air into his lungs.

“Y-yes, yes, whatever you say, just please.” He can’t stop his hips from twitching, cock bobbing wet and obscene just beneath the puffy rim of Xander’s hole.

“Please what, Laslow? Use your words.”

He groans in frustration, hands fisting in the bedsheets because his lord had ordered him not to touch.

“Let me come. Please. Let me come, I can’t wait anymore, _Xander_ _please_.” The prince bites his lip at the hot, broken exhale of his name.

“That’s it. Good boy. You’ve done so well for me, Laslow,” he murmurs, sinking back down onto his retainer’s length. “You’ve been good, so you can come now, you can come for me.”

Laslow gasps like he’s been punched in the chest, hands flying to his lord’s hips, digging bruises into the soft flesh with how hard he’s gripping.

“I-inside?” he manages to whimper.

“Yes.” The word is a punched out groan, Xander abandoning his hold on the leash in favor of gripping the bedding for better leverage. “Yes, come inside me, Laslow.”

Laslow throws his head back and unabashedly moans, hips fucking up rude and sudden and selfish into the hot clench of Xander’s body. His pace is fast, merciless, meeting every roll of the prince’s hips with his own, drowning in the molten heat that coils in his belly, makes his toes curl. Laslow cries out wordlessly, cracking his eyes open just enough to watch Xander ride him, hot and fast and filthy, until his near-screams fracture into a broken litany of his lord’s name.

It is the sight of him, bowed in on himself in pleasure, brows furrowed and mouth open in needy pants, gorgeous body writhing on top of him, cock flushed and drooling precum onto Laslow’s stomach that finally tips him over the edge. He comes, back arching, lips parted around a garbled howl of his lord’s name, hips shaking and pressed flush to Xander’s ass as he forces pulse after of pulse of hot cum into the prince’s body.

Laslow collapses, hips twitching with the occasional aftershocks, unable to do anything except roll his head to the side and moan. Xander talks him down, murmuring gentle praise and brushing his retainer’s sweaty hair out of his face as he slides off his cock.

When Laslow comes back to himself he realizes that the prince is still hard, his swollen length dripping precum down onto Laslow’s belly.

“Well aren’t you just a mess?” he murmurs, reaching down to play with the cum dripping out of Xander’s ass, pushing the rivulets that have begun to leak down his thighs back inside. The prince shudders hard. Laslow grins, reaching up and affectionately carding his other hand through his lord’s damp hair.

“Why don’t you let me clean that up for you?”

Xander groans, nodding wordlessly and letting Laslow roll them over so that his back is pressed against the rumpled sheets. He wastes no time wriggling his way between the prince’s thighs, wetly kissing the soft skin of their insides, and watching Xander’s hole twitch and leak out more cum. Laslow can’t hold off long with a sight like that in front of him, so he ducks his head farther down, slowly licking up the creamy trails that had been rolling down Xander’s flushed skin.

“Laslow!” His name is a choked gasp, punched out of Xander’s chest when his retainer’s tongue brushes ever-so-lightly across his puffy, used rim.

“So _sensitive_ my darling,” he whispers, laying a firm lick over the swollen flesh and listening to Xander cry out. Laslow groans and sets into the task, tonguing wet and sloppy at the slick gape of the prince’s hole. He pushes his tongue inside and moans at how it slides in with almost no resistance. Laslow buries his face between his shaking thighs and sucks at the tender rim, feathering his teeth across it occasionally, just to hear the prince keen.

“You are,” he gasps, coming up for air, “ _filthy_. You’re going to come just from me licking my own cum out of your ass, aren’t you darling.”

“ _Laslow_.” Xander’s voice is wrecked and Laslow groans at the sound.

“Do it then,” he nearly growls, wrapping one hand tight around his lord’s gorgeous cock and going back to mouthing hungrily at his ass. Laslow fucks Xander with his tongue and pumps his cock in time with every wet little thrust. The prince’s thighs lock around his head and he cries out in wordless abandon as he comes, ass clamping down like a vice and forcing more cum onto Laslow’s eager tongue. He draws back after a last few teasing licks, pressing against the puffy flesh as Xander twitches in the aftershocks.

Laslow comes up to find his lord still breathing heavily and drenched in an obscene amount his own of cum. He grins, licking his still-slick lips.

“Shall I clean that up for you as well milord?”

Xander groans, turning to bury his face in one of the many pillows.

“I think you’ve done enough cleaning for tonight.”

Laslow hums in agreement, flopping down on his side next to the prince, cupping his face, and pressing a few soft kisses to his forehead. Xander sighs into the touches.

“As you wish.”

 

* * *

 

 

They planned to leave after the third consecutive night of post-war celebrations. Their job is done, they’ve won, and stayed just long enough to reap the first ripe fruits of their labors. No goodbyes, it’s easier that way. Odin and Selena leave just after midnight.

Laslow lingers.  

He sleeps with Prince Xander one last time. Laslow tells himself it is a requiem, a last chance to remember the sleek, perfect body he’d come to know so well. A last chance to recall the prince’s voice whispering his name, feel the hot clench of his body, the way their fingers laced together. A goodbye.

Yes, he thinks, this is his final requiem for a man who will be long dead when he steps through the portal to Ylisse.

This will make it easier.

 

Laslow leaves just before dawn, extracts himself from the warm tangle of Prince Xander’s limbs and silently dons his clothing. He gathers his few possessions from his own chambers, a little food, and is gone before even the earliest risers in camp are awake.

He makes it exactly ten miles towards their previously agreed-upon rendezvous point before Kamui finds him.

Laslow wants to kick himself for not leaving earlier, _sentimental fool_ , when he hears the enraged shout of his name and sees the streak of purple hair and fury barreling towards him. Kamui comes at him with her fists and Laslow, ever the gentleman, drops his sword to offer her the same courtesy.

They fight. Laslow loses.

Miserably.

He sits in angrily resigned silence while Kamui cools her palms with ice magic and presses them against his swollen face.

“I think you broke my cheekbone,” he mumbles.

“Good.” Her voice is sharp, nasty. “You fucking deserve it after what you did to Xander.”

“I was barely gone for a day, he couldn’t have missed me that-”

“Oh, yes he could! He _knew_ you weren’t coming back. And you left without even saying goodbye.” Kamui makes a disgusted noise, even as the coolness at her hands shifts into healing magic and begins seeping into Laslow’s bones. “Much less telling him _why_ you suddenly decided to disappear forever.”

“Frankly, that’s none of your-”

“Oh, trust me, I could give a shit less where or why or how you’re running away.” She grabs his chin suddenly, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “But you _do_ owe that explanation to my brother.”

“Would you come off it!” Laslow snaps, shoving her hands away. “He was my liege and, yes, we fucked for a while, but that’s _it_. Neither of us were proposing marriage-”

“He was going to.”

Laslow stops dead, stunned into silence. He gapes like a fish for a few long moments before he can find it in himself to reply.

“What?”

“Propose to you. He was going to, tonight. Before you ran off and broke his heart.”

“His…heart.”

Kamui huffs, head lolling back on her shoulders. “For all your flirting, you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

“I…don’t-”

“Xander doesn’t sleep around, Laslow.” Her eyes are suddenly boring into him again. “He doesn’t sleep with _anyone_ unless he’s romantically attracted to them. My brother was serious about you from the minute you two fell into bed together.”

It takes Laslow another embarrassingly long amount of time to respond.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” she bites. “That’s really all you have to say?”

“To you, yes. The rest I intend to say to your brother, if you don’t mind.”

Kamui’s face splits into a grin and she laughs, hopping back up to her feet and brushing the dust off her clothes.

“Good. I intended to haul your ass back kicking and screaming if I had to, but this is much easier.”

“Has anyone ever told you,” Laslow bites, standing and slapping the dirt off his clothes, “that you have a really fucked up sense of morality.”

Kamui shrugs, unperturbed.

“It gets the job done.”

 

* * *

 

They make it back to camp just after sundown.

Laslow was expecting his reunion with Prince Xander to be awkward and cold. He didn’t think the prince would come running to meet them, face a mixture of shock and relief when they slowed to a halt.

“You…” he breathes, “you came back.”

Kamui looks between the two of them for a moment and then smiles.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she chirps, setting off towards camp and leaving the pair alone under the just-emerging stars. Laslow breathes. He can do this. 

“Yes, I came back. I felt I…at _least_ owed you an explanation for why I left so suddenly.”

Prince Xander nods a bit, quick and, if Laslow didn’t know better, nervous. “Alright.”

“I thought that leaving like that would make it easier, there would be no goodbyes or tears or sadness, it would just be done, _over_ , like ripping off a bandage but-” Laslow exhales shakily. “I know I only made that decision because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of me?” The prince’s voice is impossibly gentle.

“No I…” Laslow huffs, rubbing at his eyes. “I was afraid of my feelings for you. I was afraid that if I lingered to say goodbye I would choose you over my homeland and I just…I just _miss_ it, Xander. I miss my mother, and my friends, and my home, and-”

He hadn’t realized he’d started crying until Xander’s hands are there against his cheeks, gently wiping the tears away. Laslow tries to breathe and choke down his emotions for now, determined to finish what he has to say.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you and part of me was so scared that I _had_ that I pushed everything down and told myself that you could never reciprocate…”

“Laslow-”

“Were you really going to propose to me tonight?” he whispers, voice shaking. The concern in Xander’s eyes melts into something much softer.

“I was,” he murmurs. “I still am if you’ll stay long enough to give me the chance.”

Laslow sobs once, a wet sound, and jerks forward on his toes to kiss the prince, hands cradling his neck and pulling him closer. Xander eagerly obliges, wrapping Laslow up in his arms and kissing him back, a desperate, uncoordinated slide of lips; a promise. 

“We…we have a lot of things to discuss,” Laslow gasps when they part, just a few inches, each loathe to let too much space come between their bodies.

“We will,” Xander laughs, pressing his lips to Laslow’s forehead, “and we will do it together.”


End file.
